


Broken

by pumpkinonwheels



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Caitlin and Felicity being friends, Gen, Implied Snowbarry, Post-3x09, Spoilers, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinonwheels/pseuds/pumpkinonwheels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-3x09. </p><p>Caitlin hears about what happened and visits Felicity. She has some experience with grieving, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

Everyone had left S.T.A.R. Labs for the night. Everyone except Caitlin, of course. _First to arrive, last to leave_ , Dr. Wells always said, though it felt like a compliment coming from him. But she’d finally finished the last of the day’s tasks. Her original tasks, that is. The ones she’d meant to do before the latest metahuman fiasco.

She’d spent the day in that shaky, heart-fluttering space built from concentration and fear, but they’d gotten their man in the end. Or rather, their metahu _man._ (Caitlin chuckled at the wordplay; Cisco would be proud.) And now all she wanted was to go home, lie on her couch, and read something fun. Maybe have some tea and—

Her phone rang. She startled at the sudden noise in the silent lab, but recovered quickly when she saw who was calling.

“Mr. Diggle!” she said, surprised. Whenever Team Arrow (as Cisco insisted on calling their new friends) needed something, it was Felicity who called.

“Caitlin. I’m sorry to be calling so late—”

“No, no. It’s no problem at all. Haven’t even left the office yet!” _Technically_ , she amended. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing.” Something was strange about his voice. Too precise. Too formal. “This isn’t about the Arrow, Caitlin. It’s about Oliver.” 

#

Barry came when she called, like he always did. She clocked him this time. Thought maybe it’d keep her mind off…everything. It did. For 57.63 seconds.

She stopped the watch when she felt the wind. She always felt him before she saw him, or before her brain registered that she’d seen him, to be more precise.

“Caitlin, what’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he stopped.

“Everything’s wrong, Barry.” She felt the first sting of oncoming tears. She should have told him over the phone so she wouldn’t have to _watch_ his heart break. But he deserved more than that. “And I’m so, so sorry, but I need a favor. You need to take me to Starling. Now.” 

#

She wore the spare suit Cisco kept (just in case) over her clothes. It would be a long run, and she didn’t want to burn up.

Barry had carried her only a few times before and she couldn’t take any measurements to be sure, but she thought Barry ran faster than normal that night. She pressed her face against his neck as they ran and tried to turn the static of his pulse into beats, but it was too fast.

Everything was too fast. 

#

When they stopped, he put her down slowly. She swayed, but he didn’t loosen his grip on her arms until she steadied.

“Thank you.” She looked up at him. Tear tracks streaked across his temples. She reached up, but he flinched away. “You want to stay?”

He shook his head. “I…I can’t. Call me when you’re ready?”

“Of course.”

He turned, poised to run, which he didn’t need to do. He didn’t need to pause. He only hesitated when he didn’t want to go.

“Barry.” She touched his arm. “Thank you.”

And he was gone.

She stripped out of his ill-fitting suit as quickly as was possible, then turned back to face the apartment door he’d carried her to. She took a few deep breaths, and knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Inside, she heard a muffled call of, “Digg, please, I just need to—”

“Felicity?” Caitlin called back.

A few moments later, the door opened. Felicity peeked around the side, as if afraid. She’d been crying, of course. She’d been crying so long she’d stopped bothering to wipe away the tears.

“Hi,” Caitlin said.

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice was timid and hoarse. Caitlin could fix the latter: brew up some tea with honey and lemon. Something soothing. Something healing.

Felicity stepped out from behind the door, but kept a hand on it.

“I heard. And I thought maybe I could…not help. Of course I can’t help. But I wondered if you might want some company?”

“So you came all the way out here to ask? You could have just called.”

“It’s not so far. Barry took me.”

Felicity took half a step back, scanning the hallway like she expected him to attack.

Caitlin continued quickly, “And I would have called, but I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Why not?”

With a shrug, she said, “Because I didn’t after Ronnie died.”

Felicity nodded, still wary, but she said, “Do you want to come in?”

“Do you want me to?” Caitlin asked, sincerely. “Because Barry can be here in a—”

“Flash?” Felicity said, but there was no humor in it. Caitlin felt the numbness in Felicity’s voice. No, she _remembered_ it. She remembered how it felt.

“A minute.”

Felicity opened the door wider, and stepped aside. “Come in. Please.” 

#

“I’m sorry the place is such a mess,” Felicity said as Caitlin sat on the couch. Felicity stood in the center of the room. “I wasn’t expecting anybody and I…I’ve been…”

“Preoccupied,” Caitlin supplied.

“Right. That. Yes. Good.”

They spent a few minutes in awkward silence. Caitlin sitting. Felicity standing. Neither talking.

Caitlin worried that maybe this was a terrible plan. She didn’t know Felicity all that well, and maybe she’d rather be with her real friends right now. Maybe Caitlin was intruding, projecting, something. But then again, Felicity had thought Mr. Diggle was at the door and she’d turned him away.

Finally, Felicity spoke. “How did you know where I live?”

“I had Cisco ping your phone’s GPS before we left.” Felicity’s eyes widened, and Caitlin continued, “I know it’s an invasion, but I—”

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine,” Felicity said, finally sitting on the other end of the couch. “That’s just been happening a lot lately.”

Caitlin spun toward her, crossing her legs. “Would you like some tea? It’ll help with the soreness in your throat.”

“How do you know my throat’s sore?”

“I’m a doctor,” she said, smiling. But Felicity stared dully back, and maybe now wasn’t the time for awful jokes. “And because I ate my way through two bags of cough drops when Ronnie died. Tea’s better, of course, but I didn’t—well, couldn’t bother making it. Seemed like too much effort.”

Felicity pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. “Tea would be great. Thank you.”

Caitlin nodded and jumped up, eager to do something tangibly productive. Only a counter separated the kitchen and living room, so Caitlin could still see Felicity on the couch while she searched for the teapot.

“You didn’t have anyone to make it for you?” Felicity asked. “Tea, I mean?”

“No. People offered to come over, to help. Cisco, for one. Ronnie and I didn’t have many friends outside of work. We didn’t have much of anything outside of work, really. And I couldn’t look at any of them without seeing _him_.”

She filled the pot, focusing on the sound of the water rather than her voice. She’d never told anyone this, but she needed to now, no matter that it still hurt to go back to that time.

“What about your family?”

“They tried. They were very supportive, but they didn’t understand. Not enough, at least. Especially given the circumstances.”

Felicity didn’t answer. She kept her cheek pressed against her knees and her eyes pointed toward the couch cushions. Caitlin wondered how long she’d been in that position before her arrival.

“I can’t stop thinking about…the circumstances,” Felicity said, granting Caitlin’s words an edge that made her shiver. “I can’t stop _picturing_ it. Keeping my eyes open helps some, but still.” She paused, taking deep breaths.

 _That’s good_ , Caitlin thought. _In through the nose, out through the mouth._

“We know he was stabbed. Through the chest. Straight through. And,” Felicity took a sharp breath. “And he was pushed. Off the mountain. And I…”

Her voice fell away, replaced with gasps and tears.

Caitlin rushed to the couch, and knelt before Felicity. Caitlin didn’t take her hand. She didn’t know her well enough to know if touch would be welcomed, but she wanted to be near, at least.

“Who _dies_ like that? Who dies from a sword through the chest in a duel? Why did he have to die like that? Why—why did he have to die?”

Felicity was shaking now. Shaking and sobbing and Caitlin had to do something. She settled next to Felicity and pulled her close.

Caitlin cried, too, silently. She stroked Felicity’s hair and held her and cried with her. It wasn’t much, but it was what she had to offer. It was all anyone could offer, and Caitlin knew it would never be enough.

The teapot whistled. “Damn it,” Caitlin said. She wiped her eyes, and debated leaving the water, but the whine grew higher. “One minute.”

She disentangled herself and ran to take the kettle off. She didn’t bother with the tea bag. It could wait. She rushed back to the couch, but Felicity had calmed some.

Caitlin sat next to her again, and Felicity leaned her head on Caitlin’s shoulder.

“How long did it take you?” Felicity asked after a moment. “To stop hurting so much?”

“I didn’t. I never stopped hurting. I just started doing other things, too. I found room for the pain and the rest of my life to coexist.”

“God, that sounds horrible.”

Caitlin laughed, because she heard Felicity again in that short sentence. The slightest hint of her, anyway. “It kind of was.”

“Was?” Felicity sat up, and tilted her head. “But you said it didn’t stop.”

“Well, I…” She paused, collected her thoughts. “Something happened. Recently.”

“What happened?”

Caitlin rubbed her hands together, worrying her ring finger, a habit she hadn’t broken after Ronnie died and that had gotten worse lately. “Ronnie came back.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Sort of! He’s a metahuman now. We don’t know where he is, or if he’s _him_ anymore, but he’s alive.”

Felicity stared, openmouthed. She nodded, but it was slow, like she was acting more on instinct than any real feeling.

Caitlin rushed to fill the stunned silence. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to bring it up. It’s still a secret, and I didn’t—I wouldn’t want you to think I’m gloating or something.”

Felicity’s eyes shone again. Caitlin reached for her hand, but Felicity pulled it away.

“I’m happy for you,” she said as the first few tears fell. “That’s…that’s so incredible. Congratulations? Is that what you’re supposed to say in this situation?”

“Felicity…”

“No. Really, I’m happy. I’m just also crying, which is all I’ve been doing, and I really, really appreciate you coming, but maybe I’m not the best company right now.”

Caitlin almost stood, almost pulled out her phone and texted Barry right then, but she didn’t. Not yet.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked softly.

Felicity didn’t hesitate this time. “No. And yes. But mostly no.”

Caitlin leaned into the couch again, but kept a slight distance between the two of them. The silence wasn’t awkward this time. Strained, maybe, but not awkward. The difference felt important somehow.

After a few minutes, Felicity said, “You’d thought about it before, right? Him coming back? Was it what you imagined?”

“No. It was so much worse. Have you thought about it?”

“Yes and no. It was a few days before we found out. I’d stayed in the foundry the whole time he was gone. Oli…um, he kept a bed there so I just stayed. I’d lie there, staring at the staircase, waiting for footsteps. I thought I heard him once, and I jumped up so fast I almost twisted my ankle.”

She played with the fabric of her pajama pants, pleating and un-pleating.

“Did you know what you’d do if he came back?” Caitlin asked.

Felicity’s face twisted up again. Caitlin wished she could do something, that she could make this part move faster. Because no, the pain never went away, but it got easier to bear.

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t let myself get that far. I’d imagine his steps and…and seeing him again. But I didn’t think about after.”

“Why not?” Caitlin asked, hoping she wasn’t pushing too hard.

But Felicity answered. “It would depend, wouldn’t it? It would depend on _how_ he came back. Sometimes I imagined him fine, whole, smiling. But other times, he was so broken. And if I thought about one possibility…”

“You’d think about the others.”

Felicity nodded, and put her head back against the couch, eyes to the ceiling.

Another minute passed before Caitlin said, “Felicity, you know, maybe—”

“Don’t say it, Caitlin.”

She put a hand on Felicity’s shoulder. More insistent, she said, “But maybe he’ll—”

Felicity snapped her head forward. “Don’t say it!”

Caitlin recoiled, pulling her hand away.

“Don’t say maybe he’ll come back.”

“Why not?” she said, and she was definitely pushing now, but she couldn’t not. “I thought it was impossible for Ronnie to come back, but he did. Why not Oliver?”

Felicity flinched at his name. She closed her eyes, but no tears came. Caitlin doubted she had any left to give.

Felicity let out a long breath. “Because, really, how many miracles can there be in one world?”

“As many as possible.” Caitlin took Felicity’s hand, and was pleased Felicity didn’t pull away. “And in my experience? This world is capable of much more than we give it credit for.”

Felicity opened her eyes, the barest suggestion of a smile on her lips. She wasn’t okay. She wouldn’t be okay. Even if her miracle came, like Caitlin hoped it would, Caitlin knew she wouldn’t be okay. But she wasn’t broken beyond repair, either. 

“Now,” Caitlin said, standing. “How about that tea?”


End file.
